


Sketches Under the Bed

by lupisashes



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Cuddling, Eggnog, Fluff, Furry, Gen, JackRabbit - Freeform, M/M, heavy groping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupisashes/pseuds/lupisashes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various drabbles/one shots based on Rise of the Guardians. Multiple pairings, multiple ratings, no real timeline. </p><p>2: <i>“You, Aster, are most incredibly built being I am having fortune to lay eyes upon.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jackrabbit: Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Aster finds himself awake and thinking whilst Jack freezes Aster's buns off.

It’s warm in his burrow. Warm, cosy and comfy, like snoozing in the afternoon sun on a particularly lazy day. It’s normal, preferred, Aster’s favourite conditions to sleep in.

But Aster can’t help but shiver. He can feel the boy breathe, feel it as his cool exhales ruffle the now drool-covered fur at the back of his neck. Jack is curled around him, one skinny leg thrown over his waist and an equally spindly arm wrapped around his chest. They’re pressing him completely against Aster, holding him so close that even the thick blanket between them is having a hard time keeping Aster warm.

It’s one of North’s; a gift, a blessing, given to Aster soon after him and Frosty had officially announced their relationship. It’s enchanted, Aster knows, each thread woven with love and magic strong enough to protect the pooka from Jack’s cold.

But he refuses to cover himself completely – he has to feel some part of the sprite, be it his nose, mouth, fingers or pale, bared legs. Jack’s breath is like having a chilled breeze whispering against him, not completely unpleasant but not completely comfortable either.

The boy’s out cold though. He's quiet and peaceful in slumber, so unlike when he's awake. Aster couldn’t imagine waking him over something so small. He can hear Jack’s heart beating. It’s slow and faint, like mice pattering around his warren, but it’s there. He can hear the little snuffles Jack utters when his dreams amuse him and the little gasps when they catch him unawares. Jack doesn’t wake though, no matter the hitch in his sound sleep, not until Aster pulls away.

Aster’s nose twitches as Jack murmurs against him, the words lost to him despite his large ears, as the boy’s lithe fingers find their way inside the blanket and clutch at the white tuft of fur on the pooka’s chest. Aster can’t help but quake; Jack’s touch burns, so cold against him that it feels as though he’s stabbed Aster. The heat he'd managed to gather inside the plush wool seems unsure whether it should fight for the space or flee completely. 

Either way and with a sigh Aster pats at the hand, before regretfully tugging it away, nosing the palm affectionately and settling it on top of the blankets again. He shifts only to wrap the crimson and green fabric around himself tighter, before he settles in much the same fashion as he’s been settled all night. Jack’s grip tightens quickly, his heel digging into Aster’s tummy and his fingers groping at the material over Aster’s chest.

It’s no surprise the winter sprite always clings to him. Jack hasn’t hadn’t had much contact with anyone until recently and Aster likes to think that it’s comforting for his nip of Frostbite to wrap himself around him, to _feel_ him. That he’s there with Jack, despite the risk of blackened limbs and bruised skin beneath thick fur.

Jack’s inability to control his temperature whilst asleep isn’t a secret. Aster had let him know right away that sharing a den would be difficult. But they’d worked it out, even if North had provided the means, even if he’d wanted nothing more than to through the soft blanket back at the big man because of that annoying, knowing twinkle in his huge blue eyes.

Aster can’t help the little smile tugging at his lips; Jack had been so stoked when he’d heard about the bloody thing’s capabilities.

And it hadn’t failed them yet.

Aster tugged on the blanket as Jack’s hand danced over his chest again, pulling it so he could grab the pale appendage before it could find it’s way inside again. He rubbed a thumb over the sprite’s knuckles, a pleased purr erupting from him when Jack immediately settled.

It was good to feel the boy. Even if he was going to wake up with a stiff, cold-threaded neck and a frozen paw the next morning.


	2. Eggnog: Taut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You, Aster, are most incredibly built being I am having fortune to lay eyes upon.”_

“You are magnificent.”

“Pardon?”

Nick chuckles, as he lifts himself out of his seat, steps heavy as he makes his way over to where Aster is curled on the bench by the window of his workshop. He had originally been attempting to come up with new toys, but it is hard when Aster visits and chooses to groom himself where Nick can see him.  
“You, Aster, are most incredibly built being I am having fortune to lay eyes upon.”

Aster frowns, ears drooping in a way that Nick has learnt means he’s embarrassed, but he doesn’t back down, simply stretches himself out, so he is crouching on top of the bench, “I’m not too bad, I know. Thanks.”

“Am not sure you know how much,” He can’t help the twinkle in his eyes as he says that, as he sits beside Aster. The window's open the tiniest bit, letting the softest of chilly breezes into the room. Nick watches carefully as it ruffles the fur on Aster's shoulders and chest, “Perhaps you should let me show you…”  
Aster yelps as the man’s huge hands grasp the thick fur of his shoulders, tugging him so he’s sitting in Nick’s lap, his back to Nick's front, “Oi! What’d d’you you bloody think you’re doin’!?”

Nick ignores his whining, instead focusing on pulling Aster’s arms behind him, so he can hold both bony wrists with one hand. He tugs, gently, watching with wrapt attention as Bunny arches, head tipped back against Nick’s broad shoulder. He's a tiny thing, compared to Nick. Both in girth and height. His bones are thin, his muscles stretched tightly around their structure, his fur being the only thing to give the impression that Aster has any meat on him at all. 

He carefully takes in the feel of Aster stretched out in front of him. Leaning back into him. There's a trust held in the way Aster simply allows Nick this, that glazes the entire situation much like honey over ham and makes Nick's mouth water. If Aster wanted to be released the bigger man would be hard pressed to keep him where he wanted him. But Aster allows him much. 

Nick grasps both of Aster's wrists in one hand, softly pressing the other to the bottom of Aster's jaw, so his fingers can trace its outline. Aster's breaths are hard, rushed – rabbits really are nervous creatures – but he can feel the excitement rolling off Aster. Can feel it vibrate through him when Nick drags his fingers down the Pooka's throat, outlining, memorising.

He stops at the tuft on Aster's chest before he holds tight to one of his shoulders, his big, bright eyes continuing down the smooth slope that is Aster's torso. He pulls at Aster's wrists, pulling him back all that little bit more. His gasp seems to echo in Nick's ear, as he watches with rapt attention as Aster’s tummy jumps with his every breath.

“You are work of art.” Nick rasps, his voice scratchy and hard to find. He has always appreciated art and finds so much still that takes his breath away, “Much detail. Minute. Perfect.” 

He drags a thick finger through the fur on the Pooka’s chest, nuzzling against his neck and shoulder as he attempts to memorise the way his chest and stomach look, then feel, beneath his fingers. “You have groomed yourself many times in my presence, you know. We have talked during. Yet, despite my thinking I am being obvious, you do not realise how much you tempt me. Never. But I will tell you now. You are truly beautiful, especially when drawn tight.”

He manoeuvres Aster, pulling him this way and that, drawing him tight, then allowing him to loosen, whilst his fingers trace and memorise and worship. Aster’s gasping in his ear, swearing, writhing in his lap, but Nick has a goal and he doesn’t allow distractions. Even as he presses a slow, loving, worshipping kiss to Aster’s neck and slowly releases then tugs Aster’s arms so they’re bent over his head.

He allows Aster to sit forward, his other hand grasping at the Pooka’s slim waist, holding him firmly in his lap as he examines and admires the way his fur fluffs out between his shoulder blades. He traces between them, delighting in the way his fingers sink into the gathered fur, feeling warm as he imagines the way the muscles beneath the grey work. He then takes a moment to examine Aster's long back, the markings, the little tuft that is his tail sat snuggly against him.

“I will sculpt you one day.” He says with finality, eyes raking up and following the angle that is Asters arms stretched and bent around his ears. North nips at one, making Aster writhe beautifully in his lap, before he whispers, “Keep hands behind head. Do not move them. I will not let you fall.”

He immediately releases Aster's wrists. Pressing a warm kiss to each one, he brings one thick arm up and around Aster's waist, the other pulling until Aster is sitting sideways against him. The Pooka's eyes are shut tight, mouth open slightly to let his puffs and huffs out, his nose and whiskers twitching seemingly randomly. Nick can't help but smile fondly. 

Nick continues his memorising then. His eyes flow with ease down the slopes of Aster's body, carefully noting where grey changes to white before his eyes slip further. The hand not cupping Aster's waist is sitting on one of the Pooka's knees, squeezing slightly every few moments, before Nick can't help but want to feel as Aster breathes. The fur on the Pooka's stomach is as smooth and well kept as the rest. 

He traces the outline of a leg. Palms and squeezes it to find out if his bones are just as fragile seeming here as they are in his arms. They are, and Nick is careful to rub any ache his examination may have caused away before he takes a giant foot in his grasp. 

“C-careful of the toes, luv. Bit ticklish.” 

That makes Nick chuckle fondly, makes his hands gentle further, until his touch is like that of a ghost. He examines claws, quickly, because he knows there are some things one does not play dare with. He wishes to keep all his limbs intact. 

He rubs and grips up Aster's leg again, before he smirks. His hand dips dangerously close to the juncture between Aster's hips and thighs. Nick delights in the little gasping groan such daring tears from Aster. Delights even more in the way Aster wiggles and gyrates on his lap, purposely grinding down as he shifts himself to whisper in Nick's ear. 

“Y'done it now, luv.” His arms haven't moved from behind his head and the feeling of a leather strap against his padded cheek makes Nick's insides flutter, “Y'should know better by now. Making me all hot and bothered like this. Gotta be home soon. Can't go till I'm decent now.” 

It's Nick's turn to huff slightly when Aster nips sharply at a lobe, “Help a mate out?” He nuzzles him, nose twitching as he takes in Nick's scent, “And perhaps later you could make a few starting sketches. Any pose you want, no matter how ridiculous.”

Oh, such a _teasing_ creature. 

Sliding his hands up Aster's front, Nick carefully manipulates Aster's arms until they're out in front of him. He rubs up and down strong arms, presses hard into the shoulders, because he knows they sometimes ache, and if the hiss Aster releases is painted with anything other than relief it will come as a surprise...  
Nick grasps a spindly paw in each of his hulking hooves, rubbing Pooka fingers idly as his gaze turns hot. 

“Let us move to my desk, yes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote a really vague short version of this as a [response to one of my mates on Tumblr's question](http://lupisashes.tumblr.com/post/45183411551/epilepsysprinkles-replied-to-your-post). I've just had a particularly vivid image of it stuck in my head so I extended upon it. 
> 
> Hope you've all had a lovely Easter! My Easter Sunday's got about 8 minutes left. So I'll bid you all goodnight! Other than that...
> 
> WOO EGGNOG.

**Author's Note:**

> This was editted since it was on tumblr. That happens a lot.


End file.
